


My Love is Faded

by Emilia206



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Addiction, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Anxiety, Baby on the way, District 7 (Hunger Games), Doubt, Drugs, F/M, Friendship, Geese, Guilt, Loss of Control, Loss of love, Mental Illness, References to Drugs, unlikely friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:00:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26418364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emilia206/pseuds/Emilia206
Summary: What if Peeta had returned from the Capitol later than in the original series? A post-mockingjay fic, where Katniss is shipped off to 7, as soon as it becomes clear she's wasting away in 12, to complete classes of intense therapy alongside Johanna and Annie. When she returns to District 12, she finds that nothing is as it should be.
Relationships: Haymitch Abernathy & Katniss Everdeen, Katniss Everdeen & Johanna Mason, Katniss Everdeen & Peeta Mellark, Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 18
Kudos: 24





	1. The Mockingjay breathes, barely.

A shadow of the former girl sits, staring bleakly at the empty grate of the fireplace, the flames long extinguished for the heat of summer. She looks skeletal, her frame looks frail, as if a gust of wind could snap those bones in two. The dark rings under her eyes show her lack of sleep, and her prominent cheek bones stick out like an ugly sore on her face. She's grey skinned, and her hair is matted to one side of her face, her trademark braid, forgotten. And in the corner of the room stands the yellow-skinned mentor with the gaunt face, finally looking at her for what she has become. Its not like he hadn't sat next to her on the plush sofa before, drinking from his flask with a grim expression, never acknowledged by the girl wasting away in front of him. Kneeling in front of her, a desperate old woman tries to get her to drink small sips from the glass of water.

Finally they both accept the situation for what it is, fruitless. 

The old woman gets to her feet, and sits next to the small girl, so lost in her own world of grief, and gently leans her into her arms, stroking her hair with utmost care, she whispers: "Don't you worry Katniss - you're going somewhere, where they can help you... help you in ways we can't." 

The promise of help falls on un-hearing ears. The yellow-skinned man sighs from his corner, before shuffling out of the room, to the hallway, to make the call he had tried to put off for as long as possible.

As much as he acted indifferent to the two children, who in an unexpected turn of events, had fallen into his care, he didn't want the girl to leave. Not really. He knew she had to go, if she was going to live to next year. He had to be responsible now - he couldn't keep ignoring the fact that this girl, _who was in his care_ , was wasting away. He'd managed to make the right decision for the boy, who was still in treatment, but it was easier with the boy. Because, as cold and heartless as it sounds - he had made the decision a long time ago - to protect the girl above the boy. His survival was accidental, not un-welcomed, but definitely accidental. It's not like he didn't care about the boy at all, he did. But he understood the girl better, knew her thought process, because it was so alike to his own. The boy however, had always confused him. So naturally kind and selfless, even after the hijacking. That wasn't in the mans' nature at all, it was all about survival with him, and the girl. Well it had been, he strongly believed that the girl didn't want to survive any more. But he knew that he couldn't grant her that pleasure. The loss would break her mother, who had already lost so much. It would destroy the boy, who refused to talk about his feelings for her. And deep down, he knew it would possibly kill him if she died, because like it or not those two children were all he had to show for his life... 

_Yes,_ he thought grimly to himself, _sweetheart is going to be stuck on this miserable plain of existence, to suffer along, just like the rest of us._ And he dialled the number, that would ensure, that she would in fact have to stay on this miserable plain of existence a little while longer.


	2. A Summer Breeze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little wake up call for our Ms. Everdeen. Who will she bump into in this strange unfamiliar place? Will she consider them friend of or foe... ally? That's a safe word, right?

A light summer breeze flows through the window, that has been cracked open a little, bringing with it the scent of pine and a rich earth. A weak sunlight floods into the box room, which contains only a bed, a nightstand, and a girl - far too small for the bed - sleeping peacefully, for now.

Slowly, the drugs begin to wear off, and the movements of the girl, which had been slow and indicated deep sleep, became more frantic and volatile. She jerks upright, clawing at the sheets, a faint cracked scream leaving her mouth. She looks around, put off by how clean and white everything looks. _White, just like his roses._ She doesn't like the colour white, it's lying and cruel. A facade. No, that colour is to be distrusted -she decides.

The last remnants of dream leave her ghostly face, and she remembers what happened to her. How the doctors had sneaked into her house, to try and tell her that she had to leave. She couldn't leave though. Didn't they understand, she had to hold the fort, make sure everything was just in place for her arrival. She knew that she was coming back to her, she wouldn't let her down, that wasn't in Prim's nature. She had screamed, and clawed at them, becoming that wild animal again.

Then, as if waking from a fever dream, she had seen the yellow-skinned man, looking utterly defeated in the corner of the room. Drink in hand. Haymitch. Haymitch, who hadn't protected her since that first arena. Haymitch, who stood there, complacent in her pain - _again_. She, had felt the fight seep out of her, at the memory of the blue eyed boy, and the blue eyed girl. She had lost them both. And the two people who she had entrusted with their lives, had both failed her. _Gale._ And she felt herself lower to the floor, not even certain if it was the drugs or her grief denying her the use of her legs. She heard the whimpers leave her mouth, not even strong enough to cry anymore. She saw that dammed cat slink into the room, roused by the commotion and mewl helplessly, at the sight of his new owner kneeling on the floor in a full blown panic attack. She blacked out.

But now, now she was hooked up to a machine again, hydrated, and probably having nutrients being fed to her through a tube. So, she wept, and she wailed into the morning. Clenching the sheets, as if they were a lifeline, maybe they were, she couldn't be sure. She howled, at how unjust it was. Her grief erupting from within, rearing its ugly head after being trapped under the heavy blanket of her oblivion. The tears came, fat and hot down her cheeks, dripping down until she was a snivelling mess. She didn't care though. This was her lament, and she would be dammed if she held it back. She screamed into the depths of the earth, cursing every soul that had ripped her little duck away from her, condemning every life that had torn the boy with the bread apart - until he couldn't even recognise himself. She screamed until her voice gave out, and then continued rocking on the bed, tears drying into salty tracks on her face.

* * *

When, hours later she wakes up, she can see how dusk has settled over the forest that moves in the evening wind. She doesn't remember even falling asleep. The window is still open from earlier, and she curls into a ball trying to retain some heat. She's too weary to move from the bed, which miraculously is a pristine white again. She scowls. _All traces of discomfort or pain removed, swept under the rug again_ , she thinks bitterly to herself. And then she hears the door click, she shrinks back. Her old friends fear and paranoia greet her, as her breathing picks up ans she can hear her heart going _boom, boom_ in her chest.

"Katniss," says the voice, "Are you OK?" She doesn't recognise the voice, though it seems familiar.

"Like you would care." She grouses, despite herself.

"I do care," the voice begins, "You were a good friend to Finnick, you were there for him when I couldn't be."

And suddenly she recognises the soft voice, the lilting accent. District 4's only living Victor. Annie. What is Annie doing here though? She can't hear the swell of the Ocean or the tell tale smell of salt. In fact she distinctly smelt the forest, that unique, sharp smell of pine.

"Annie?" She breathes, not daring to feel the relief flooding through her, at the thought of a familiar face, "Where are we? What are we doing here?"

And then she hears footsteps approaching the open door. She can see out into a narrow hallway, lit up by a dim orange light.The profile of what must be Annie stands in the doorway, blocking the owner of the footsteps. With a pop, a woman with cropped hair sneaks under the arm that Annie was using to hold the door open.

"Well would you look at that." says a snarky voice that Katniss recognises instantly, "The Mockingjay can do more then just scream."

Finally the two women move into the room, and an automatic light blinks on, bathing them in an orangy light, identical to that in the hallway. Annie's long auburn hair is twisted into a knot at the back of her head with long tendrils escaping down her back. She's wearing a deep green, fluffy looking jumper that goes down to above her knees. On her feet you can see a white pair of equally fluffy slippers. She looks well. Johanna's hair has grown back in completely, but she's keeping it short. Her T-Shirt looks like it should cling to her skin, but it isn't, yet. Though she stands confidently with her hands on her hips, and smirk plastered onto her face you can see the rings under her eyes. They both look better than Katniss, and she knows it, and for the first time in months she finds that she cares.

"Jo," Annie whispers in a warning tone, "Remember what they said, go easy."

"Yeah yeah I know, she's in mourning." Replies Johanna smile still plastered on her face, but then she looks at Katniss, and her gaze softens, "It's OK you know, we won't bite."

"I know," Katniss croaks, still a little apprehensive, "You're not Enobaria." She tries for a light tone, but she doesn't feel it. And neither do the other two, apparently, not even Johanna comes up with a mean quip.

They settle on the end of her bed, and just look at her for a moment.

"What?" Snaps Katniss, still feeling a little inadequate in the presence of these women.

"It's just..." Annie starts, but doesn't finish, appearing to get lost in her thoughts.

"You look like shit." Finishes Johanna for her, but her expression isn't unkind.

" _Jo._ " Hisses Annie, pulling out of her reverie.

"No," Whispers Katniss, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips, "She's right."

"What happened?" Asks Johanna, "I mean I know those bombs fucked you over, but you didn't look like _that_ last time I saw you."

She winces at the memory of those bombs, but replies in a soft voice; "It just didn't really matter to me, after... after Prim." She manages to force out.

"I'm so sorry Katniss," Annie immediately tells Katniss, seeming to know just what to say, "I knew about it, but I didn't get the chance to tell you last time I saw you. I wasn't really in a talking mood."

Katniss nods at her bed cover, fiddling at the hem, tears springing to her eyes again. The conversation ends there, as both women crawl over to her and embrace her. It takes her by surprise at first, she never really knew Annie, and she never considered Johanna the hugging type, she relaxes into it though after a few seconds. War changes people, she thinks to herself as she feels Annie tremble in her arms - her first show of just how deep her grief ran - and Johanna's breathing pick up, as she remembers her own type of hell. She doesn't even want to try to imagine what's going through their minds.

* * *

The next morning, it was explained to her, by two stern looking nurses, that she's here for treatment until they're sure that she can take care of herself. She hadn't liked the look of these nurses - they didn't look Capitol, but they had grim mean expressions. When Katniss asked what treatment, they just looked at her and one of them indicated with a bored arm at Katniss' decrepit body, as if it were obvious. It was obvious, Katniss admitted to herself later, but she would never say. Instead she had asked where exactly she was, and the other nurse had replied in a brittle tone, that she was in District 7.

After they had left, a Doctor with soft features, and an even softer expression had entered. The Doctor had introduced herself as Dr. Atalia, and told Katniss that she would be her psychologist for the coming months, she said that her colleague Dr. Youn would be responsible for her physical well being, they would be working together to make sure Katniss made a 'smooth but fast recovery.' The other doctor was busy at the moment but would meet with Katniss later. She then said that they were moving Katniss into another room, where she would be sharing with her fellow Victors, Annie Odair and Johanna Mason, due to the positive reaction of yesterday. When Katniss gave her a look that clearly said _'that was private,'_ she had merely chuckled and said that she would get more privacy in her new room. 

* * *

So, that afternoon, already completely exhausted - because she'd been unhooked from her machine, she made her way down to the cafeteria in a pair of hospital issued leggings and T-Shirt. She had been bathed by a nurse, who had insisted on washing and cutting her hair. When she had looked into the mirror after, she saw that her hair barely made it to below her chin, but her face is what shocked her most, her cheekbones stuck out and the dark rings under her eyes contrasted with her pale complexion. It was jarring. After she had gotten over the initial shock, she had realised with some satisfaction that she was unrecognisable, no-one would bother her now. She had been apprehensive about eating together with people at first, even though they wouldn't recognise her, she didn't want to be judged by them either. But as soon as she had made it to the cafeteria she realised that it wouldn't be an issue, the people here looked just as lost as she did. Skinny, scarred, and injured. The cafeteria was a big open hall, with wooden panels and pillars, indicating at the Districts' industry of lumber. Big windows filled the hall with sunlight, and long wooden tables lined the floor. 

She walked up to the kitchens and filled her plate with a small helping of mashed potato and some type of meat covered in a sauce that looked like gravy, she knew she should go slow if she didn't want to throw it all back up later, so she skipped the queue for pudding completely. Instead she scanned the hall for a place to sit, preferably alone. Before she could make her way over to the quiet part of the hall though, a person came up behind her and whistled into her ear and whispered; "Almost didn't recognise you gorgeous, come and sit with the cool kids."

She spun around half expecting it to be Finnick standing there, but it was Johanna, wearing the same clothes from yesterday. Looking past her she could see Annie sitting at a table, with at least five other people, smiling at her.

"I don't know Jo," she said, "I don't really want to talk to other people right now."

"Oh don't worry," Johanna told her, "They're completely decent people, and they won't even recognise you with your hair like that." Johanna winked suggestively.

"That's my problem Jo, they're _completely decent_ people." She said in a hushed voice.

"Oh, just shut up, and come sit with us. I promise they're fine." And with that Johanna pushed the reluctant Katniss over to the table. It's fine, thought to herself, she just had to consider them potential allies to help her navigate this unfamiliar place. Nothing more, nothing less. And that included Johanna and Annie, she wasn't looking to make big personal connections anymore. She just wanted to go home, back to her life of solitude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies! I'm going to aim for a solid chapter a week, do forgive me if it's a little late though. I've just started a new school system, and am getting settled in. If anyone wants to be my beta let me know in the comments. I hope you enjoy this next chapter, and tell me what you think! Until next week my loves!


	3. Guess we’re all fucked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone want a chapter in Johanna‘s POV? No? Well here’s one anyway! Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Remember me? The girl who said, “ I’ll do a chapter a week you guys!” Yeah? No. So yes, I’m still alive, and if you’re still here you passed the test. In my defence this chapter is long, so you’re welcome. Ok, seriously though if you’re still here you’re a legend. Also, big thanks to my beta Starlight_Wren, go check her out (AFTERWARDS). That girl has patience though, and is really supportive, so big love!

Lunch was uneventful, if not a confirmation that Katniss Everdeen had truly spiraled. Johanna watched on in poorly veiled scrutiny, as Katniss forced the tiny meal on her plate into her mouth. Gone was the girl who had delighted at stealing bites of food from other people's plates in 13, to be replaced by someone who, apparently, not only didn’t enthuse about the idea of food anymore, but couldn’t find joy in any sort of social activity, full stop. It was dis-heartening to say the least, someone who had thwarted the system so many times was literally crumbling from the outside-in and vise versa. It seemed that Katniss had given her all, and now her all was nothing at all.

The sarcastic snarky mask that Johanna usually wore, to hide how truly broken and fucked up she was on the inside, had slipped yesterday. When she walked into that clinical room, it had given her a powerful sense of deja vu and caught her off guard. Especially when she saw Katniss hooked up to all of those machines, feeding her nutrients and a healthy dose of morphling - to stop her from screaming herself into a coma. Truth be told, it had taken an amazing amount of self restraint on her part not to unhook Katniss from that ‘oh so sweet’ morphling drip. It had taken Johanna longer than she cared to admit to shake that craving. She had gone in there with the intent of proving to everybody that she was still a stone cold bitch, but the looks Annie had given her, and the sight of a decrepit looking skeleton girl curled up in the corner of her bed, had shifted her world slightly off balance, and she lost the mask she was trying so hard to keep from falling. Never had she ever dreamed that she would sit in a three-way hug with Katniss Everdeen and Annie (Cresta) Odair, silently crying at the memories of the long deceased.

Granted, they all looked a little better today. Annie was wearing another one of her fluffy jumpers with sweats, fully showing off her six month pregnant belly, and comfortable slippers. Katniss was wearing what looked to be hospital issued clothes, and her matted hair was chopped off. Johanna hadn’t been lying when she said that she almost hadn’t recognised her. She had been looking out for a wandering skeleton with a mass of dark knotted hair falling limply next to her gray face, not for a lost soul with hair that made her look less like a traumatised child, and a little more like a fucked over adult - gone was her braid that had defined her from the onset; as something a little purer than most. Johanna still wore her clothes from yesterday. It had been a rough night, and she hadn’t bothered with looking for the few clothes that she had picked out for herself. So yes, lunch was decidedly uneventful. The people sitting with them didn’t even recognise Katniss (probably that new hair-do). Johanna and Annie had long since identified themselves, but both of them sensed that Katniss just wasn’t ready for that type of scrutiny. It wasn’t like Katniss was offering up a wealth of information about herself, so they just left it. When the time came, she would do it herself.  
  


* * *

Sitting on her bed, all alone in the room that she now shared with two equally broken beings, she stared at the notebook that Dr. Atalia had requested she fill with her thoughts and feelings. She was supposed to write some sort of entry every day so that the doctor could help unravel all of her anger. It was getting on Johanna’s nerves. She liked her zero-fucks-given attitude, and she could feel it melting away as the doctor and her continued to talk. She definitely preferred Dr. Youn. He was helping her regain her strength and agility, and he wasn’t much of a talker. _I can appreciate someone who is honest with how truly fucked I am,_ Johanna thought to herself. Well she couldn’t write that thought down, could she? It didn’t seem relevant or even remotely helpful to a discussion. Why was this so hard all of a sudden? Usually, she would spend a half hour tops on this and then go try and snag a bottle of _something._ Apple juice didn’t help keep nightmares at bay. She learned that the hard way last night. 

Getting up to take a peek out of the window, Johanna stared longingly out at the dense forests of her home district. What she wouldn’t give to be there right now, hacking out her frustration on some unfortunate tree. Instead, she had to content herself with throwing that damned notebook across the room. It landed with an unsatisfying _plunk_ after bouncing off of the wall.  
  


Not for the first time during her stay here, she felt trapped. She missed the smell of pine, yearned for the feel of sticky sap on her fingers as she climbed a tree. What was she even doing here? She didn’t remember asking to be here. Why would she? There wasn’t really a point, was there? It wasn’t the first time she had asked herself such questions. A good sprint on the treadmill in the gym usually helped clear her mind. She sensed that this was going to require more than just an angry workout to resolve. Slowly picking up the notebook and pen again, she began to write.  
  


By the time Johanna had written out her anger and frustration on paper, forty-five minutes had passed. _Well, if Dr. Atalia wasn’t happy with this, she could suck a dick,_ Johanna thought crudely to herself, and smiled a little that the doctor hadn’t managed to rub away all of her filthy thoughts. She was tempted to add a little something like that at the end of the passage, but decided to go for a quick workout in the gym after all. She still had a lot of frustration to get out of her system, and if she didn’t get it out , she might end up punching a wall or something stupid like that. She could worry about all of her _feelings_ and _thoughts_ tomorrow, she thought with a scowl. It was probably a stupid pet peeve of hers, but she just hated it when people spoke about how they were feeling, and she hated it even more when she was forced to do the same. Probably why she had hated Katniss from the on set. Too many emotions playing out across her face. Though she wasn’t as bad as _lover boy_ , who actually voiced his feelings for the morons in the Capitol, who couldn’t read a natural facial expression for the life of them. She still cringed at the memory of watching Katniss lean in for that first kiss, she shivered involuntarily. It had looked so forced and robotic that even Johanna winced out loud, along with the rest of the mentors that year. She had been about ready to throw up by the time the infamous scene with the berries happened.  
  


* * *

It was late evening, when Johanna finally left the gym. She had skipped dinner, and was ravenous. The dining hall here usually made her something if she came in late. _Appease the mad person and all that,_ Johanna thought bitterly to herself. Dr. Atalia insisted that she was neither mad nor deranged. She sure felt a little off her rocker. 

“Johanna!” called a voice at the end of the dim hall, they’re face shrouded in darkness. Johanna knew who it was though, he was always here waiting for her. Robin.  
  


“Hey.” She muttered under her breath, she wasn’t in the mood for his antics this evening, no matter how much her body craved the sweet release. She walked over to the kitchens, where she could hear them doing prep for tomorrow's breakfast. She banged loudly on the shutter, and out of her peripheral vision saw Robin wait, dutifully silent, in the shadows.

Slowly, the shutter creaked upwards, and a rather plump woman stood before her. These people knew who Johanna was, and what she was here for, it definitely wasn’t the first time she’d skipped a meal and regretted it later on. Yet, these lovely ladies always felt the need to ask what she wanted at this time.  
  


“Why hello, lovely! What can I get you this late at night?” The woman's voice was sweet and enquiring, it put Johanna on edge, and it didn’t help that she could clearly sense Robin still behind her.

“Whatever Dr. Youn wanted me to have for dinner tonight.” She bit out. Clearly that workout had done nothing to her grated nerves.  
  
“Of course, of course.” the woman stared at Johanna fondly, “Name?” As if she didn’t know who she was. Johanna resisted the urge to roll her eyes at this woman.

  
“Johanna.” The woman carried on staring, “Mason.”

“Well OK then Johanna, we’ll send it right out!” The woman's eyes twinkled brightly, before she turned on her heel and disappeared into the depths of the kitchen.

Johanna stood, waiting, and lightly tapped a rhythm with her fingers on the countertop. She stiffened when she felt the presence of Robin move closer.  
  


“How about, instead of dinner we smoke a bit of this sweet stuff?” Robin whispered innocently into her ear, discreetly shaking the little baggy of the murky green vegetation under her eyes, taunting her with it.  
  


“Not in the mood tonight, Robin.” She told him with a resigned voice, “I have a new roomie, don’t want to scare her off by returning stoned outta my mind.” She offered by way of explanation.  
  


“You’re no fun anymore Jo, you always have a different excuse these days.” Robin whined, “I’ll just go smoke this alone, shall I?” At Johanna’s affronted expression he chuckles and says in a melodramatic tone; “Don’t worry Jo, the pain will fade.” With a hand over his heart, face contorted into mock pain, he walked off, little baggy swaying with his gait.

Johanna rolled her eyes at the back of his head, Robin was harmless really. They had had some really good times, high or not. Always open to a quick fuck, with no strings attached. And a good sense of humour. _A decent guy_ , she thought to herself. When he turned around at the entryway, with a shit-eating grin on his face, and told her in a very serious tone and eyebrows raised; “Next time bring that new roomie of yours, I’m sure we can find a way to have some fun!” She was reminded exactly why she kept going back to him for more of that ‘sweet stuff’. She might even go as far to think of him as a friend, maybe he wasn’t the most reliable of types, but he was honest. Honesty was something Johanna craved after so much deception in her life. She shook her head with a smile. She couldn’t even imagine someone as uptight as Katniss, consenting to recreational drugs, let alone a threesome, or something like that, with a complete stranger. Who knows though, grief and loneliness can make people do very odd things.  
  
“Ms. Mason.” the plump lady was back, holding out a container of food. Dr. Youn had very slowly been increasing her helping sizes, and making them into very protein and carbohydrate concentrated meals. As she took the container from the woman’s hands, Johanna wondered wistfully if she’d ever get back the body that she had once flaunted to a room full of killers.  
  


* * *

  
Johanna was already chowing down on her food when she made it to the door of her room, she heard two voices inside. She wasn’t surprised, it was late, but still it was odd to hear conversation going on without her in the room. Not that she was complaining, conversation with Annie was mostly limited to her fond memories of Finnick, how swollen her ankles were getting, and what she was going to name the Finnick 2.0 growing inside of her.

She pushed open the door, and her eyes fell onto what she could only describe as a deformed, mud yellow fur ball of _something_ lying on Katniss’ lap.  
  


“What the fuck is that?” She blurted out, interrupting the steady flow of conversation.

Katniss looked up at her and actually smiled, “That’s what I first thought when Prim brought him home.” At the sound of her sister’s name the smile on her face vanished, “He’s a cat, she named him Buttercup.”

“Why?” Johanna asked, slinking over to the bed, continuing to eye the ‘cat’.

“She swore his fur was the same colour as a buttercups’,” another wry little smile passed over her face, “He’s _never_ been the same colour as a buttercup, not even as a kitten.”  
  


“It looks infested,” Johanna deadpanned, hissing at the cat as it tried to sneak its way over to the container of food that Johanna was digging into.  
  


“Don’t worry Jo, apparently the doctors here thought the same, so they gave him a proper medical before he could even set a paw into the building.” Annie joined the conversation, “That’s why Katniss only got him back today.”  
  


“Well ain’t that precious?” Johanna mumbled through a mouth stuffed with food.  
  


* * *

The steady chatter progressed into hushed whispers as the evening turned into the dead of night, the pale moonlight filtered through the open window, casting their facial features into unnatural shadows. A disgruntled Buttercup leapt out the window, presumably to catch his own dinner - after Johanna had chucked him from her bed by the scruff of the neck when he had tried to lick her plate clean, and finish the remaining meager scraps. When Annie fell into the grips of sleep, Johanna beckoned for Katniss to follow her as she started to clamber out of the window herself.

“Where are we going?” Katniss asked in a hushed tone, as she struggled out into the cool summer night.

“Don’t worry, even you will be able to make it up there.” Johanna told her, giving her weakened body the once over. Katniss scowled and begrudgingly followed Johanna as she crept along the side of a building, precariously balancing on a ledge. Eventually, they made it to an old oak, where she hefted herself up, only glancing down once to make sure Katniss was following her. Shimmying herself up the trunk of the tree a little, she found the sturdy branch that conveniently leaned over onto the roof. With a balance that was only learnt if you spent your whole childhood up a tree, she tip-toed along the branch, and jumped, soundlessly, onto the aging shingles.  
  


It took awhile for the two women to get settled on the slanting roof, but, in time, they found a place to sit side-by-side comfortably. They looked into the branches of tall pines and shifting fir trees. It was quiet for some moments, Johanna noticed that Katniss was taking her first look at the layout of the compound that she would be calling ‘home’ for the next few months, if not years. _There were worse places to be_ , Johanna thought to herself, _trapped in the Capitol for one_. As if reading her thoughts, Katniss broke the easy silence they had been sharing, and asked;  
  


“Do you know how he is?”  
  


“Who, lover boy?” Johanna shook her head, glancing at Katniss. She was staring out at the forests again, no sign of civilization for miles. “They found this place just outside of Seven. It’s from before the Dark Days, but they’ve given it - as Dr Youn likes to call it, ‘a face lift.’”  
  


Katniss nodded, taking this information in, then rendering it reliable. She then said, “Do you know if he’s still there? In the Capitol I mean.”  
  


Johanna chanced another look at Katniss, who was still resolutely gazing out at the vast expanse of greenery ahead of her. “Yeah,” Johanna finally said, “As far as I know, he’s still in the Capitol, getting treatment for his ‘special madness.’” Johanna heard Katniss quietly snort into the crook of her elbow.  
  
  


Silence fell upon them again. Johanna was trying to think of something to say, she only ever really took people up here if she wanted to talk to them about something privately. She remembered, not for the first time today, those disgustingly sweet moments that had played out before the entire nation's eyes in the 74th games. How absolutely enamoured Peeta was with this girl, this girl who had clearly been caught off guard with his confession, and had no idea what she was doing _._ She remembered she had watched with utter revulsion at the awkwardness of their kisses, and also, what she now recognised as confusion. Why? Why was he so enthralled with _every_ action, _every_ decision she made. Love at first sight was nonsense, Johanna knew that. Not even in a district as small as Twelve would that happen, especially not to a girl who was severely underfed, and in general, not that pretty. That whole ‘love is blind’ thing was also bullshit, if anything the boy had been hallucinating. But, for some reason this boy had been obsessed with that girl _for years_.

And then she remembered how Katniss had quietly admitted, in the privacy of their little shared room in Thirteen, that Peeta had taken a beating for her. That sometimes she would see him and his brothers in school, with bruises in places that you wouldn’t get when you wrestle. How Peeta had admitted, in front of the whole goddamn nation, that he had watched her _everyday._ How his father had told him, a little five-year-old boy, that his mother wasn’t his first choice. It hit her then, it made so much more sense then the lie that the District 12 team had been feeding the citizens of Panem, and before she could stop herself, she blurted out; “You shouldn’t feel obligated to him, or guilty, or whatever it is you’re doing. He never truly loved you.”  
  


That got her attention, Katniss’ head snapped to the side so quickly Johanna was surprised it hadn’t just rolled right off in shock. “What?” Katniss asked, in a voice so strained and clipped that it made Johanna’s senses prickle with the impending danger of being shoved right off of the roof.

Johanna tried to back-peddle, “I mean sure he told everyone he was hopelessly in love with you, and I’m sure he believed that he was telling the truth, but what he felt for you wasn’t _love.”_

Katniss’ expression softened to one of confusion. Honestly, Johanna could relate. She had no idea why she suddenly felt possessed with the need to voice her opinions on this matter, or why those thoughts had even popped into her head in the first place. She pressed on; “He was obsessed with you, ever since his father pointed out that he wanted to marry your mother. I mean who the fuck tells his five-year-old kid that?” Johanna spat out, and took a furtive glance at Katniss, who still looked like she had been slapped in the face, but at least she was actually listening. “I mean can you imagine being that little boy, and watching in confusion at how kindly, this girl from the shitty part of town, was treated. How this mother and father seemed to adore their little girl, even though he had probably been taught from an even younger age, that these children were supposed to be miserable. Yet, his life, which was supposed to be of better quality, was worse than yours. You said it yourself once, you were showered with love and affection from a young age, as was your sister.” _  
  
_Johanna paused, and yet again looked over at Katniss, who was deep in thought. “And then your father died, and you were left in-charge of your own mother’s well-being, as well as your sister’s. As Peeta said, he watched you everyday, and all of a sudden you weren’t this happy, loved, cared for girl anymore. You were sullen, and probably in mourning, and all he wanted to do, was see you play ‘happy families’ again. He didn’t just chuck you some bread because he didn’t want you to die, he wanted to see you thrive. He had a crush on you because he wanted what you had. So marry into it right?” Johanna paused for breath, Katniss remained silent. _  
_

“I reckon if he had been the same age as Primrose, he would have been ‘madly in love’ with her too. He convinced himself he liked you, _loved_ you even. Peeta wanted to have some of that family happiness that you had growing up, people that believed in his abilities and didn’t just treat him like shit. That’s not love.” Johanna’s voice had lowered down to barely above a whisper, and Katniss had shrunk further and further into her knees.  
  


“And what makes you the expect on love?” Katniss finally said.

Johanna chuckled sourly, thinking of that one time there was _something_ , but offered nothing other than,“I paid attention. Don’t get me wrong though, Peeta’s a great person when he isn't losing his nut, and I don’t think even he understands his fascination with you. I also don't think his love didn't evolve into something a little more realistic after your first games, but it still seemed like clouded blind affection for you. A childhood of beatings and half-arsed love has given him a shit ton of insecurities. It’s probably why it was so easy for the Capitol to do what they did.”

“I know,” Katniss murmured.  
  


The two of them stayed on the rooftop for a while longer, before finally returning to their room where they found Annie thrashing in her bed crying out for Finnick.  
  
“Guess they fucked us all up pretty good then.” Katniss whispered. Johanna’s head snapped up, and she offered a wane smile.  
  


_Guess they did, didn’t they?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, ok, please don’t kill me in the comments for being so brutal about Peeta. I promise you, you will get that everlark sweetness, but it’s gonna take some time. Also if you hated that, you may wanna skip next chapter because I have some plans for our fire girl... You have been warned. Now, get down into the comments and stroke my ego! I’m joking, I want some honest feedback, but don’t be afraid to lay it on thick. Ok that’s all! Next chapter will be posted whenever it’s done! Bye lovelies, until next time!


	4. Summer Showers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two month time jump, and just an average day in the life for Katniss. It is a bit of a filler chapter, but it sets up the chapter after next (next chapter will be for Haymitch's POV) really nicely. Katniss is improving though watch out for some of her less then healthy thinking patterns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realise it's been a really long time since I posted a chapter for this story, but it is still active, and I intend on finishing it.
> 
> For some reason this chapter was really difficult for me to write and get finished, whenever I wrote something for it, it never worked quite how I wanted it to. So instead of working myself round and round in circles over this, I decided to just get it done. I'm a perfectionist so naturally I don't believe that this chapter is my best, but it is what it is. Please remember to leave a comment (even if it is short) they are literally my motivation.

Summer was starting to wane, and the oppressive dry heat that had been persistent in Katniss’ first month in District 7 was replaced by thunderstorms and torrential rain, giving them only a few days at a time of some reprieve sunshine. Katniss often found herself wondering if there was in fact someone flicking a switch behind a screen, analyzing which weather would cause the most discomfort and fear. Katniss thought that if there was someone doing such a thing, they were doing a rather good job, for the two weather options were so extreme it seemed unnatural. The weather patterns would trap the patients of the institution inside for many days at a time, and then force them outside when the heat became too much for even the newly reinstated air ventilation systems in the building, and the only way to find somewhere cool was to take to the shade of the forest that stretched for miles and miles.

Sitting at the window, watching as the rain pelted down on the world had become somewhat of a habit for Katniss. Leaning her head against the freezing window pane often gave her jumbled thoughts a sharper point, making them easier to sort out. Sometimes she would stare off into the wild for hours on end, trying to unravel the mystery of being Katniss Everdeen. It wasn’t a very fun pass-time, but even when Katniss consciously tried to do something else, she felt her mind wandering off. Dr. Atalia was often worried that Katniss’ thoughts ran too dark, and that she might try something. Admittedly, Katniss had often let herself daydream about such things, imagining herself crafting the noose effortlessly and letting herself swing from one of the many trees outside, but she never did let herself venture farther than singing the Hanging Tree to herself over and over. It would have to satisfy her need for now, because as Katniss often reminded herself, if she was having trouble figuring herself out, then Peeta must be going through hell. She didn’t like letting her thoughts drift to him, but sometimes they did. After Johanna had said what she said on the rooftop, two months ago now, Katniss couldn’t really decide where her loyalties lay, as ever. And as Dr. Atalia liked to remind her, now was not the time to be thinking about boys.

“Katniss?” Annie’s concerned voice broke through the otherwise silent room.

“Yeah,” She croaked out in response. Katniss’ resolve to keep people at arms length had broken a long time ago. She had very quickly realised that staying here virtually locked away from the rest of society was a lot easier when you had people that you got along with. Annie and her had become easy friends, able to sit quietly in each other's company for hours on end, never feeling the urge to say more than a few words to each other. It reminded Katniss of the friendship that had sprung forth between her and Madge, both Annie and her shared that gentle quietness about them. Best of all, Annie was one of the only people here who didn’t pry into Katniss’ private thoughts, she was there to listen if need be, but otherwise she left her to it.

“Don’t you have physical therapy soon?” 

Panicked, Katniss looked over at the clock hanging from the wall that told her she had five minutes to get ready or she’d be working doubly hard for Dr.Youn. He was one of the only doctors here that screamed Capitol. Though he didn’t wear silly impractical clothes, and in-your-face hair colours, he abhorred tardiness and demanded a certain amount of respect, which Katniss constantly found a struggle seeing as he had kept his Capitolite accent.

Cursing to herself quietly, and wondering how on earth so much time had passed, Katniss sprung from her seated position at the window. Scrambling to find her ‘sports clothes’ among the mess of clothes on the three beds. 

Startled by the sudden noise, Buttercup stood up from his curled up position on the end of Katniss’ bed and stretched himself, revealing the now crumpled garments that Katniss was busy turning the whole room upside down looking for, grumbling as she went. Finally spotting the crinkled clothes covered in fur, she started to tug at her shirt. She scooped the cat up, scolding him briefly, before flinging him to the side as she hastily dressed herself. Buttercup hissed before slinking out the room.

Katniss followed shortly after, and came up panting at the doors of the makeshift gym. Pausing a moment to catch her breath, she finally slipped through the doors, only to find a stern looking Dr. Youn waiting for her, impatiently tapping his foot. 

“I-” at a loss for words, and not really knowing what to say, Katniss clamped her mouth tightly shut.

The doctor merely raised his eyebrows at her, before declaring that they should start.

* * *

Dr. Youn hadn’t gone easy on her today, and she practically limped from the physio-room before stumbling into the shower, dowsing herself in icy cold water, trying valiantly to relieve the tension she could feel building up in her muscles. She couldn’t deny that she enjoyed the burning sensation in her body everytime she pushed it to the limits, marveled at the fact that she could now stretch herself to the point where it looked a little gross, and how she no longer ran out of breath after thirty seconds of running. Her body wasn’t built for muscles that she remembered Johanna having, it was designed for agility and, apparently, flexibility. It definitely had its benefits, it made her feel less broken and more able to carry on undergoing treatment.

Gently toweling herself off, she studied her naked form in the floor-length mirror that stood in the fogged up bathroom. She still looked like the definition of starvation, her hip-bones jutted out, and her collar-bone looked sharp and angry on her chest. Her scars made her look a bit like a patchwork blanket, and her skin hadn’t fully returned to its rich olive colour. She looked exactly as she felt, broken, but getting to some semblance of normalcy. Huffing at her reflection, she set about moisturising herself and getting dressed. 

Brushing through her choppy, uneven raven hair brought forth another scowl and huff of annoyance. Though her hair was gradually growing back, it still resembled something more akin to a rats nest most of the time. The strands of hair stuck to each other and knotted easily. Katniss had never been one to care much about her appearance, but her hair, if she was being honest - was her only feature that she had found quite pretty. To have it all chopped off, because it was burnt and ashen, on top of the fact that she had failed to care for it for close to six months, made the whole situation of being chucked into a ‘loony bin’ as Johanna’s friend Robin often put it, that little bit more embarrassing.

Sighing a little, she tied on her headband to keep her hair from flying into her face, which never failed to annoy her, or amuse Johanna. 

* * *

Trudging into the dining hall, she glanced around, eyes immediately landing on Johanna, who was wildly gesticulating. Annie was sitting opposite her, picking at her food tray. As her pregnancy progressed, her food portions had increased. Never one with a big appetite - even though she was eight months along now - Annie rarely finished her food, much to the delight of both Katniss and Johanna. Neither of them got many sweet treats in their diets, and they found great pleasure in splitting Annie’s desserts. 

After collecting her food from the other side of the hall, Katniss settled in next to Johanna, who seemed to have moved onto a story about where she saw a spider eat a gecko. Katniss instantly put it into the category of ‘one of those stories’ where whatever Johanna is saying is clearly made up, but nobody wants her to stop telling it, or call her out on it, because face it everyone here could do with an escape from their lives every now and then.

Once Johanna had finished telling everyone of all the gruesome and weird details she could come up with, she finally acknowledged Katniss, who was busy with shovelling food into her mouth. 

“You look rough.”

Katniss only scowled in return, this wasn’t unlike her though. Secretly she appreciated Johanna’s brutal honesty, though she would never admit to it. However, there were times when she had wanted to stab the girl with a fork.

The most memorable of these occasions was when Johanna had bellowed out, “Over here Everdeen!” in the dining hall only three weeks after her arrival. Katniss had been ready to make a run for it, out of the dining hall, out of the whole facility if needs be. She had enjoyed her few weeks of anonymity, but now it was all ruined because of Johanna’s loud mouth, with every pair of eyes on her she had scurried out of the room, without even eating. On her way out, she had watched as Annie elbowed Johanna in the stomach, earning an ‘oomf’ from her. When Johanna had come into their shared room that evening, she had the decency to actually say and look ‘sorry’. 

People didn’t stare at her as much now, but when they did, she could feel their eyes burning a hole in the back of her head, giving her the unforgiving urge to gouge their stupid eyes out with a fork or spoon, or whatever else she had on hand. Dr. Atalia told her that these urges and thoughts were completely normal, and would soon fade. At least nobody ever tried to come up to her, that would be the last thing she needed.

The only interaction she had with other people, who weren’t doctors or nurses, was with Robin and Jasmine. Robin was more Johanna’s friend than hers, but if they ever went up to the roof, he never failed to invite her. Katniss had in fact gone up to the roof with both Johanna and Robin a couple of times, to smoke _something_. Robin had told her what it was many times, and all the different names there were for it, but she could never quite keep a tight hold on that memory. All she ever remembered from those nights was the incredible feeling of freedom. Freedom from herself, to just float away, and feel the different sensations of a cool breeze and uneven shingles underneath her. Sometimes Robin sang a little tune, and she let his cracked voice soothe her into some sort of relaxation, where colour burst in front of her eyes, or maybe behind, she could never be sure. Once she had even dared to hum along, but soon stopped when she heard the mockingjay’s singing it back to her. “Fuck them,” her drug addled brain had thought.

Jasmine, on the other hand, was her friend, they had met in a joint physio session with Dr. Yoon. She was from District 11, and Katniss often thought that if Rue had been given the chance to live, she would have turned out a lot like Jasmine. Both capable climbers, and nimble on their feet, they would often head out into the woods for hours. Jasmine had a sweet clear voice, that would be a perfect contrast to Katniss’ more sultry one. Jasmine would often sit up on a branch, and sing runs with the listening Mockingjays. Katniss often longed to join the cacophony of voices, but she never dared open her voice to let her notes fly. Instead she bottled them deep down within her, and focused instead on creating mediocre traps, or sharpening a few arrows. 

It had taken Katniss longer than she’d like to admit to finally allow herself to feel the freedom and power that come with hunting in nature. Jasmine was no huntress, but she often stood and watched as Katniss took aim at an unsuspecting rabbit or squirrel.

This was something that Katniss was proud of, that she had picked up her talent of archery and hunting. Trusted herself with her chosen weapon. That she wasn’t so afraid of not being anyone or anything for a few hours, of just getting lost in sounds and touch. It also filled her with a sense of satisfaction that she was giving back, even if it was only a little.

* * *

“Earth to Katniss,” Johanna called, nudging her pointed elbow into Katniss side.

“Hmm?” Katniss hummed, head snapping up to look at the people she was sitting with.

“Did you hear anything I just said?” Johanna asked disgruntled.

Katniss’ brow furrowed, and she tried to remember when exactly she had drifted off into her own world. It had become somewhat of a bad habit, she was trying to shake it, she really was, the only problem was she didn’t ever realise that it was happening. She slowly shook her head, and in a quiet voice asked Johanna to repeat what she said.

“They’ve set up a refugee camp, just a few miles West from here,” Johanna said slowly, as if she were speaking to an infant.

Katniss scowled at Johanna before replying with a huff, “So?”

Johanna shook her head at Katniss, apparently amused by how non-plussed she was, “ _So,_ we were thinking we might sneak out to see what’s going on there.” 

“I’m guessing by ‘we’ you mean Robin and yourself?” Katniss asked.

“Well yes, initially, but then we thought we would love to have our two little songbirds with us.”

Katniss looked over at Jasmine, who shrugged non-committedly.

“I don’t sing anymore,” Katniss said in a hushed voice.

“Sure you don’t,” Johanna replied sarcastically, “It’s just our resident ghost who sings The Hanging Tree on a loop at night.”

Katniss looked up at Johanna, who had one eyebrow raised and was smirking at her. Katniss scowled at Johanna, fully aware that her cheeks were burning red. She thought no-one had heard her when she did that. She shovelled down the rest of her food and made to get up. “Listen, I’ll think about it alright,” Katniss huffed before hurrying from the table.

* * *

  
  


Sitting on her bed, she leisurely stroked a sleeping Buttercup. He still didn’t like her much, but he had made a habit of plonking himself on her lap whenever she came into the room. Whilst Katniss combed through Buttercup's fur, she contemplated doing as Johanna suggested. She had never been one to actively go out and socialise, but she couldn’t deny that she was at least somewhat curious of the goings on in the real world. Though she didn’t mind the reprieve this place gave her. She also couldn’t know what sort of reaction would ensue if she showed her face there. Johanna said it was a refugee camp, that meant it could quite possibly be filled with people from either the Capitol or District 13. How could she possibly know if she would be welcome there. Considering that she was quite possibly the cause of these people having to be in a refugee camp at all. What would she even say to these people? What could she say? Nothing. Nothing she could ever say would make up for the damage she had inadvertently caused.

Katniss’ thoughts slowly began to spiral, and thoughts were flicking through her head at a mile a minute, she couldn’t grasp onto any one thought for more than a few seconds. A part of her really did long to talk to people who weren’t clinically insane. She wanted to know what was happening to the country, whether she should be worried. She wondered whether a part of her would always remain cautious and alert when it came to governments and politicians. From her experience, they weren’t to be trusted. 

However, the part of her that would alway be wary of meeting new people, or just being around people she didn’t know and couldn’t trust, was terrified of the aspect of leaving the little safe haven she had here. The real world would surely just keep on taking from her if they could. They couldn’t though, because she had nothing left to give, her fire had been extinguished, completely. She didn’t even know if receiving therapy would ever give her back her _spunk._ What would these people say about her, once they realised how broken she truly was. What would they think of the Mockingjay? 

It started to rain again, and Katniss looked out the window, and listened as the rain fell atop the swaying trees. She breathed deeply and allowed her racing thoughts to slow to a stop, before setting them free. It wasn't so much that she cared about what these people would think of her, she realised, it was more that she was scared that her carefully constructed sense of calm would come crumbling down. 

She wondered if any of it even mattered. Probably not, for whatever choices she made, even a small one like what she was going to eat for breakfast tomorrow, the rain would keep on pattering down, the sun would keep on shining, the clouds would keep on rolling, seas would keep on moving, plants would keep on growing, and mother nature would always keep on going. Whether she, Katniss, was able to keep up, didn’t matter one bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment, and some kudos if you enjoyed, and I'll see you loves next time (whenever that is). Also please drop by my wonderful beta Starlight_Wren, whom without I would not have coped very well.


End file.
